


Of Hangovers and Coffee

by Madlyie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, Enjolras has to say thank you to Courfeyrac, I just like to write fluff, Just wait and see!, M/M, Prompt Fic, This is fluff again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3532046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madlyie/pseuds/Madlyie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> prompt: “accidentally broke into your apartment because i was drunk AU”</em><br/> <br/>You would actually expect Grantaire to wake up in an unknown apartment but things don’t always happen like expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Hangovers and Coffee

This was all Courfeyrac’s fault.

“Come out with us,” he had said. “It’ll be fun,” he had said.

Well, Enjolras could distantly remember it definitely had been fun once everyone stopped being sober enough to care, Combeferre began to talk about the possibility that lightning bugs were actually sent by extraterrestrials and Courfeyrac started to stage Mamma Mia all by himself but there were too many stories from their high school days that started with that sentence and they all ended with pounding headaches and not many memories from the night before.

Most times it also ended with Enjolras waking up on a couch or a floor or a park bench.

A bed though was rare.

A bed that smelled like smoke, mint and a surprisingly strong scent of paint and therefore was definitely _not_ his own – definitely a new one.

 

God, he was twenty-four, he was too old for this. He distinctly remembered a reason for agreeing to come, he just didn’t remember _what,_ there had been something important. What –

 

Every thought vanished immediately when Enjolras tried to open his eyes and the daylight effectively started to burn holes into his skull.

“Fuck,” he groaned and blindly grabbed a pillow to pull over his head, it smelled like some subtle men fragrance and more smoke, and drowned the cruel light of the sun.

 

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice said and it felt like someone was speaking through a megaphone _right next to his ear._

“I have painkillers,” the voice continued and well, that at least sounded more promising.

Enjolras paid attention on keeping his eyes very closely shut when the someone carefully gave him a glass of water and a pill. He drowned the water in one go, then fell back onto the bed, too much pain in his head to actually care.

 

After five minutes or fifty the pain began to faint.

This was probably how heaven had to feel like.

 

Enjolras slowly opened his eyes and took a first look at his surroundings, a small sunbathed room with a single bed and a wardrobe, newspaper scattered all over the floor and two huge easels with almost empty canvases on them and oh, that’s why it smelled like paint.

At the end of the bed sat a man Enjolras had never seen before.

Bright eyes, a mixture of blue and green, looked at him worriedly from under a mob of unruly black curls. “Are you feeling better?” he asked and frowned when Enjolras didn’t answer immediately because his tongue felt three times too big for his mouth.

  
“Yes,” Enjolras eventually managed to get out and the man looked relieved.

“Thank god,” he breathed out, “I am so, so sorry, really.”

“What for?”

He bit his lip, didn’t say anything and Enjolras suddenly felt his cheeks getting hot. “Oh my god, did we… you know… did we?”

The other mans’ eyes widened. “No,” he said quickly and shook his head almost frantically, “No, no, no, no. No, we… didn’t, no.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said intelligently and he should definitely feel relieved by that, right?

“Not that you’re not… you know,” the guy stuttered and now _he_ was certainly blushing, “I mean you’re really, really pretty and I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of… god no, not the point… it’s just… I might have hit you with a broomstick.”

 

Enjolras blinked.

“Excuse me?”

 

The other man took a deep breath and raised his really nice hands in a calming gesture. Really nice hands. “Look, I panicked okay? I mean it was 3 am and someone broke into my apartment and this is not actually the safest part of the city you know? I’m pretty sure the old man who lives downstairs has been dead for three months and maybe I’m just the only one who notices and I didn’t turn the light on and then you were in my living room and I didn’t know what to do and then I…”

“Hit me with a broomstick,” Enjolras finished. That at least explained why his head had hurt even more than then he remembered it usually did.

It still didn’t explained why he was here though.

He sighed. “Then I guess I have to thank you for not calling the police.”

The guy looked at him blankly. “What?”

“Well, I broke into your apartment.”

“And _I_ hit you with a broomstick.”

For some reason Enjolras couldn’t help but laugh at that even though the sound still hurt slightly. Maybe he was still not entirely sober. “I suppose we’re even then?”

A crooked grin slowly spread over the other mans’ features and it made something in Enjolras’s stomach flip that wasn’t caused by nausea.

“Alright. Even.”

He held out his hand. Enjolras took it and retuned his smile.

“I’m Grantaire by the way,” he said.

“Enjolras.”

“Well, Enjolras, sorry for breaking it to you but you look like death warmed over. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

 

***

 

Paris looked peaceful and lovely on the verge of spring, the streets and houses a harmonic pattern that stretched for miles into the distance. Enjolras could see the Eiffel tower in the city centre sticking its top into the morning sky.

“That’s a great view,” he noted as Grantaire came back from the kitchen with two cups of perfectly hot and hopefully strong coffee.

“It is,” he agreed, “It’s basically the only really great thing about this shithole but to be honest, it’s better than I ever imagined it to be.”

He looked out of the window and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Enjolras caught himself staring and took a sip of the coffee that would hopefully clear his head. “You don’t come from around here?” he asked politely and Grantaire glanced at him quickly then he shrugged and shook his head.

“I’m from the South, actually.”

“Really? Me too.”

“No way. Hell, you look through and through Parisian.”

“You can’t know such things about a person,” he insisted, “just because of the way they look like.”

At that a mischievous smile spread over Grantaire’s face.

Enjolras didn’t remember anything of the night before and he certainly didn’t remember ever having such a challenging, interesting and absolutely infuriating debate before noon.

 

***

 

“You’ll probably get a caffeine shock, that was your forth cup of coffee.”

Enjolras looked at the mug in his hands – the print on it said ‘ _IF YOU SEE SOMETHING SAY NOTHING AND DRINK TO FORGET_ ’ – and realized he hadn’t actually thought about leaving for once since he woke up.

 

He was sitting on the bed of a complete stranger, drinking coffee and debating the human state of nature in yesterday’s clothes with no idea how he had actually gotten there.

 

“Yeah, I should probably stop,” he said and set the mug on the night stand. “I’m sorry, I totally used your hospitality.”

Grantaire smiled. “No problem, I guess my hospitality can take that since it actually started off by hitting you with a broomstick.”

“I swear that never happened before. I usually don’t drink and especially not so much that I break into apartments of random strangers.”

“Why did you drink so much then?”

Enjolras frowned. “I actually don’t …”

 

He stopped midsentence as he eventually remembered.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

 

“Woah, easy there, everything alright?”

 

Enjolras leaped from the bed so fast that he thought he would fall over for a second but a hand curled around his wrist and held him up.

He forgot how to speak for a moment as he stared into Grantaires’ sceptical eyes then burst out, “What time is it?”

Grantaire let go of Enjolras’s wirst and looked down at his watch.  
“1.30. Why?”

 

Enjolras let out a laugh that had to sound hysterical. “I am sorry, I really have to go. My sister is getting married in… one and a half hours and she’ll rip my head off if I’m too late. I am really sorry, I… thank you for everything except for hitting me with a broomstick, not thank you for that, but for everything else, I really have to go now.”

 

He turned around, almost stumbling again and ran out of the door as fast as possible, oh god, Cosette would probably kill him or Courfeyrac because of his ideas of a successful bachelor party. How stupid, stupid, stupid, even though he was actually grateful for that because without it he wouldn’t have ended up meeting a perfect, smart, sharp-tongued, stranger with really bright eyes and nice hands who made heavenly coffee and cared about a person who had broke into his apartment in the middle of the night and…

 

Enjolras stopped right on the staircase.

 

***

 

Grantaire hadn’t moved an inch when Enjolras came back into the room, breathing heavily and feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. Grantaire stared at him as if he had seen a ghost. Then he started to smile and nothing in the world could have stopped Enjolras from smiling back.

He took a deep breath.

 

“I wondered… would you like to accompany me to a wedding?”

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened. Sorry for mistakes, English isn't my first language but as always, I try my best.  
> I'm also [here](http://vintage-jehan.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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